


The Slightest Good

by bertie



Category: Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-27 20:22:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1721351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bertie/pseuds/bertie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve and Tony set up a gala to raise money for the Veterans Association and Sam is more than nervous.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Slightest Good

Steve, with Tony’s help, manages to pull off the biggest gala of the year. It’s pricey—$1,000 a head—but every cent goes to help homeless veterans and fund the veteran’s associations. A large chunk will go specifically to mental health research. He’s proud of it and he’s also chomping at the bit to show off his new fella.

Sam is less eager for the dinner, but the smile on Steve’s face is enough to get him to dig out his Air Force dress blues for the event. He disappears into their bedroom after Steve comes out, wearing his old uniform that is now nearly covered in medals, and is obviously taking his time

Steve waits eagerly on the couch and can’t help jiggling his leg in pure excitement. He held a press conference and came out publicly as bisexual shortly after falling head-over-heals for Sam (an accurate choice of words since he actually tripped himself trying to talk to Sam on one of their runs) but the identity of his partner was still a secret.

A long conversation was had, of course, because Steve couldn’t think about throwing Sam into the public eye without his consent. He wasn’t against the idea but he had his reservations.

“I’ll be by your side every step of the way,” Steve told him, kissing his knuckles.

“On my left?” Sam asked, and Steve had grinned.

“On your left.”

As it is, Steve continuously checks his watch to make sure they won’t be late and keeps walking over to the mirror in the hall to check his tie and uniform. After the sixth time, he finally does a hundred push-ups on the linoleum and then a hundred more counting backwards. He’s back on the couch reciting the states and capitals in reverse alphabetical order when the bedroom door opens.

Steve thinks for a second that his asthma is rearing its ugly head again but his chest is growing tight for an entirely different reason. Sam looks nervous—terrified might be a better word—but he’s gorgeous in his uniform. He peeks up at Steve through his lashes and tugs at his jacket.

“It’s nothing special.”

“No,” Steve says, crossing the room in three quick strides. “It is something special. You’re gorgeous.”

Sam’s cheeks go pink and he turns his face away. Steve had never seen him like this and it’s disarming and adorable at the same time. He tilts Sam’s face up to meet his eyes and smiles tightly.

“You don’t have to go.”

Sam furrows his eyebrows. “Of course I have to go! Captain America can’t set up a gala, tell everyone he’s taken, and then show up empty-handed. Then, once people find out it’s me you’re with, the media will have my head for standing you up!”

“Well, when you put it like that…” Steve meant for his tone to be teasing but Sam is agitated.

“Exactly,” he says, pushing Steve to the side. “Let’s go and get this over with. Where’s my wallet?”

_Get this over with._ The words sting more than Steve expected. He goes quiet, feeling gutted at the thought of getting the gala he spent months setting up to help those less fortunate than him _over with._ Sam must notice because he turns around, buckling his watch to his wrist, and his face crumbles.

“Steve,” he breathes, realizing what he said.

He knows there are tears in his eyes, but he can’t muster the strength to blink them away. Sam rushes to him, hands flitting over his shoulders before wrapping him in a hug.

“I’m so sorry, Steve. Oh my god, I’m so so sorry.” Steve tucks his face against Sam’s shoulder. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I’m just scared and nervous and I didn’t mean to hurt you. Shit, I’m such a jerk, Steve, I’m so sorry.”

He has to laugh because Sam is nearly shaking in his arms, gripping him tight and stroking his hair.

“Thank you,” he mumbles into the rough wool, tightening his arms around Sam’s thin waist. “I’m sorry this is upsetting you.”

Sam pulls away, wipes his thumbs under Steve’s eyes to catch the tears. “I can face a giant flying contraption with hundreds of guns, fly with only a god damn backpack strapped to my back, and somehow woo Captain America, but I can’t go eat dinner and dance with the love of my life. Something is really fucking wrong with me.”

Steve laughs, wiping his eyes, and his stomach flutters when Sam kisses his cheek soft and apologetic. He closes his eyes when Sam kisses the curve of his cheekbone and then his nose.

“I can never apologize enough, Steve, I swear to God I will make it up to you somehow. This is the most amazing and heroic thing you’ve ever done—not to say everything else you’ve done isn’t heroic—but you’re going to be helping so many people that don’t have a voice and can’t be heard. I can’t wait to see what this does to improve these men and women’s lives.”

Steve smiles and kisses Sam full on the mouth, holds him close with a firm hand on the back of his neck. He pulls back just far enough to feel Sam’s breath, and Sam’s fingers curl into his jacket.

“I love you, never forget that,” Sam says, his eyes looking suspiciously wet.

Steve swipes the tears away before he can start crying too. “I won’t ever forget,” he says, kissing the corner of his mouth. “I love you, too.”

Sam darts away and returns with a damp washcloth. He holds Steve’s chin in his hand and wipes his cheeks with the cloth to get rid of the salt. When he’s satisfied, he smiles at him and tosses the cloth into the kitchen sink.

“There, now you’re handsome again. Let’s go knock ‘em dead.”

Steve sweeps him close again and kisses him, drinking in Sam’s delighted laugh.

Sam’s anxiety only worsens as their town car turns on to the street of the convention center. His hands are clenched into fists and he is fidgeting in his seat. Steve reaches over to uncurl his fingers and hold his hand.

“We don’t have to go in just yet. We’ve got a little time,” Steve says, rubbing his thumb over the back of Sam’s hand.

The town car pulls into the line of cars dropping guests off, and Steve looks at Sam, seeing his throat work as he swallows. He squeezes his hand for good measure. There is an enormous amount of press standing outside the entrance and Steve can feel Sam tense beside him. Their car eases to a stop and flashes start to pop like crazy.

“We’ll be okay. I’ll be right beside you,” Steve soothes, moving to open the door.

“On my left,” Sam says, actually smiling at him.

Steve grins and nods. “The only place I want to be.”

He throws the door open and steps out, but doesn’t give the press any attention. He holds the door until Sam climbs out and shuts it behind him. With practiced ease, Steve slides his right arm around Sam’s waist and the flashes go wild.

Sam takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly. “Let’s do this.”

Steve squeezes him around the waist before releasing him. “After you.”

Sam just laughs and starts up the stairs, smiling at cameras as he passes. Steve feels an overwhelming swell of pride and follows after him. At the top, reporters shout for them to kiss. Steve shakes his head and laughs, but Sam hauls him in before he can turn away. He smiles and kisses him back, cupping his jaw.

“Come on,” Steve murmurs. “Let’s get this party started.”

Steve opens the gala with a speech about the mistreatment of the nation’s veterans and then goes on to compliment the work of individual Veterans Association workers and motions for Sam. He crosses the stage to take his hand as he climbs the steps, leading him back to the podium.

“Sam Wilson, my best friend and my boyfriend, goes above and beyond in his work at the Washington D.C. Veterans Association. He has helped so many of our men and women deal with the issues they face every single day. The money we raise tonight will help him and thousands of other VA employees do their jobs well so our troops don’t come back without support. Enjoy yourselves tonight.”

 Everyone claps and Sam grins at Steve, leaning in to kiss his cheek. Steve touches his back as they take the stairs down and maybe glances at his backside in those trousers.

“Was it alright?” He asks, accepting two glasses of wine from a passing waitress.

“It was great,” Sam says, taking his glass and sipping from it.

“How does it taste? Tony suggested it and I just went with it because I know shit about wine,” Steve laughs.

Sam nods. “Best I’ve ever had, which isn’t much.”

Steve wraps his arm around Sam’s hips, holding him close. “If you need, we can leave early. Tony can keep a party going way past the host’s exit—even his own.”

Sam leans in to him and takes another drink. “I’ll let you know.”

They circulate the room and thank the guests for coming, drinking and eating and laughing. Steve thinks on more than one occasion that Sam is beautiful and finally he corners him and gets to kiss him.

“Dance with me,” he says, his hands already on Sam’s hips to pull him to the dance floor.

“Okay,” Sam laughs, setting his glass down as Steve pulls him along.

The music is an odd mix of old and new. At first there’s an upbeat modern song, so Sam tugs Steve into the throng of people and shows him what to do. Steve can definitely get behind this “grinding” thing because Sam is so close to him and warm and a little giddy from the wine. It’s delightful even if he feels scandalous for doing it. When the song changes, Steve is hot and a little sweaty but this is a song he can teach Sam to dance to. He pulls Sam in and smiles.

“Do you want me to lead or follow?” He asks him, smoothing the blue jacket.

“I’ll follow,” Sam replies without an ounce of doubt or embarrassment.

Steve could kiss him.

So he does.

Then he takes Sam’s hands, puts one on his shoulder and keeps the other laced with his. He lets his other hand rest on Sam’s back, tugging him in close. He speaks softly and guides Sam through the steps until they find their rhythm. Sam only steps on his toes twice and they laugh it off and keep dancing. It isn’t until the music fades away that they realize no one else was on the floor with them.

Sam laughs nervously, still tucked against Steve’s side, and Steve just grins at him.

“You were great. Thank you,” he says, kissing Sam on the cheek.

“Anytime,” Sam responds, his cheeks pink and eyes sparkling.

The rest of the party passes with much more dancing, food, and wine. Sam doesn’t drink much but he’s loose and warm and is markedly more affectionate when he’s buzzed. Steve makes him drink a lot of water but doesn’t push him away when he wants a kiss. They shirk their jackets and dance until their feet hurt. Sam leads Steve a few times, and Steve almost likes it more than the opposite. _Almost._

They disappear into the large group when they want to get close because blatant pictures of Captain America grinding on an Air Force veteran might not look very good on the front page of the newspaper. Sam moves fluidly and his hips mesmerize Steve. He holds him close and finds their rhythm, maybe tugging his collar away to kiss his neck. He delights in Sam’s breathy gasp and slides his hand from his hip to his belly.

“Later,” he promises in a whisper.

Sam leans into him and kisses his jaw. “I’ll hold you to it.”

Steve squeezes his hipbone and finds he’s looking forward to the party being over.

They pour themselves into the town car hours later, exhausted and sweaty and _happy._

“Steve, that was amazing,” Sam says, tossing his legs over Steve’s lap.

He unties Sam’s shoes and pulls them off. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

He looks over to see Sam smiling at him and feels like his heart is in his throat.

“I love you more than anything in this world,” he tells him, reaching out to hold his hand.

“I love you too, you big sap,” Sam teases him, grinning.

Steve flicks him and Sam laughs. Steve thanks their driver and gives him a hefty tip when he drops them at home. He follows Sam up to the door and settles his hands on narrow hips as he unlocks the door. They turn on a few lights as they head to the bedroom and Steve feels the adrenaline wear off. It’s slowly replaced by contentedness and exhaustion but the mix is comforting. Before Sam can work on his uniform, Steve knocks his hands away.

“Let me,” he says, unbuttoning the coat.

Sam stands still for it all, smiling serenely at him. Steve kisses his cheek as he works on his cuffs and smiles when he can pull the shirt off.

“God, I was so attracted to you when I saw you in this uniform. You’re absolutely gorgeous in it,” Steve tells him, unbuckling his belt. “You’re also gorgeous out of the uniform.”

Sam laughs and threads his fingers through Steve’s hair. “Thanks. You’re not too bad looking yourself.”

Steve winks at him and tells him to step out of his pants. He hangs up the uniform with care and turns to find Sam sitting in the middle of the bed, watching him carefully.

“What?” He starts unbuttoning his shirt, opens the cuffs.

“You touched my uniform so reverently it reminded me how differently people see soldiers now compared to when you were a soldier,” he explains, looking unsure of himself.

“It shouldn’t be different. We all sacrificed the same things and come home with the same problems. You don’t deserve any less respect than me,” Steve says firmly, tilting Sam’s gaze up to his. “Maybe we can change that.”

Sam yawns unexpectedly and Steve chuckles, kissing the corner of his mouth.

“We can change the world tomorrow. Right now we need to get you into bed.”

Sam goes willingly and curls up on his side. Steve goes to the dresser and pulls out a t-shirt, tossing it onto the bed for Sam. He tugs on one of his own and lays his dress pants over the chair to deal with in the morning. He crawls up into the bed and kisses Sam before lying down. Sam snuggles up against his side and uses his shoulder as a pillow.

“Steve Rogers, best human pillow ever,” Sam mumbles, and Steve laughs.

“I’m glad I could be of use to you,” he teases, running his finger under the hem of Sam’s sleeve.

Sam snorts and tucks his face against Steve’s chest. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Sam.” Steve listens as Sam’s breathing evens out and lets the gentle rhythm lull him to sleep.


End file.
